Page 9 of Knot the Stray

We step out into the evening heat and meet up on the concrete sidewalk. We timed this perfect. Jake finished his patrol route, Nolan graded his last stack of papers, and I called in a favor to swap my night shift with another firefighter. We have the entire evening free. I haven’t seen her in three days, but the anticipation burns a hole in my chest. My blood hums with a restless, demanding energy. We spent breakfast talking ourselves in circles, and now I just want to see her face again.

I glance up. The bright blue sky takes on a bruised, dark tint. A severe storm is brewing. The clouds look heavy and mean, the kind that dump massive hail and rip shingles off roofs. But my mind remains too focused on the woman inside the building to give a shit about the weather forecast.

We walk side-by-side up the concrete path. Jake reaches for the glass door and pulls it open. The brass bell chimes, announcing our arrival.

The moment I cross the threshold, the sterile, stinging smell of bleach hits my nose. Right beneath it, I catch that synthetic floral perfume. It smells like cheap air freshener, cloying and abrasive, masking whatever natural scent she possesses. But the second I inhale it, my chest tightens. The physical draw hits me hard. My inner Alpha wakes up, buzzing with a heavy, protective urge. It demands I step closer, claim her attention, and keep her safe. The clash between her Beta scent and my intense attraction makes zero sense, but I accept it. I stopped fighting my own instincts hours ago.

I look toward the reception desk.

There she is.

Jessie looks up from the computer monitor. Her dark hair sits pulled back in a bun. She wears her dark scrubs like a suit of armor. Her posture straightens, her shoulders squaring off the second she spots us. The exact same soul-deep pull yanks at my center. The attraction the other day wasn’t a fluke. It feels like a living, breathing thing in the room with us. She looks exhausted but capable, and it makes me want to pull the heavy workload right off her shoulders. I want to pull the pins from her tight bun and see how long her hair gets.

The lobby sits dead quiet. A corkboard covered in faded lost-pet flyers hangs on the far wall. The lack of support staff is obvious. She manages this entire place by herself, and the sheer competence of that makes my attraction spike. She doesn’t need us, and that fierce independence drives my instincts wild.

I take the lead this time. I want to show her we bring no threat. I walk right up to the laminate counter, flashing her my easiest, most genuine smile. I set the heavy brown paper bags down on the desk between us. The scent of roasted meat and hot fries fills the sterile space, overpowering the bleach.

“Evening, Doc. We couldn’t let your good deed go unrewarded. We brought you dinner.”

I keep my voice low and warm. I make sure to keep my shoulders relaxed, leaning my weight against the high counter so I don’t tower over her workspace. I force my Alpha energy to dial back. I refuse to intimidate her in her own clinic. I want to reach across the desk and trace the line of her jaw, but I keep my hands planted flat on the laminate.

Jessie’s eyebrows shoot up. Her guarded, professional mask slips for a split second, revealing a flash of wide-eyed hesitation. She crosses her arms over her chest, re-establishing a confident boundary, but I catch the subtle tells. Her eyes dart down to the width of my chest, tracking the tight fabric of my t-shirt. A faint pink flush creeps up the side of her neck. She feels it too. The pull isn’t one-sided.

“I have two more files to update.” Her tone stays firm, but her voice lacks any real bite. She offers a flustered, appreciative look. “You guys didn’t have to do this.”

I utilize every ounce of charm I possess and give her a smile. “Everyone has to eat, Jessie. We brought enough food for a small army. Three thick-cut turkey club sandwiches, a mountain of seasoned fries, and you can’t say no to homemade cherry pie.”

Jake steps up beside me, offering a warm, crooked grin. “Edward here will eat the entire pie himself if you don’t save a slice. Consider it a rescue mission.”

Jessie lets her arms drop, resting her hands on the desk. A long, weary sigh escapes her lips. “I appreciate the rescue mission, but I have these patient logs to finish before I can call it a night.”

Nolan adjusts his dark frames and steps up to the counter. He sets a cardboard drink tray down and slides a sweating plastic cup of iced tea toward her hand. “I grade sophomore science papers for a living. I recognize that look of defeat.” He flashes a warm, easy smile. “We ordered way too much food, and the fries get cold fast. Take a break. Eat some dinner with us, and if you want us gone after that, we hit the road. Zero pressure.”

I watch the tension bleed out of her shoulders. Nolan always knows the right thing to say. He disarms people with calm energy, and it works like a charm on her. She stares at the iced tea, and I catch the rumble of her stomach from across the counter.

The woman is starving. She spent her entire day taking care of animals, and nobody took care of her. I plan to change that. That protective instinct roars to life, begging me to feed her and take the edge off her exhaustion.

“It’s just dinner, Jessie.” I keep my gaze steady, meeting her guarded eyes. “No strings attached. Just a thank you for keeping Duke in one piece.”

Jessie glances between the three of us. The air in the small waiting room feels charged with quiet curiosity. I hold my ground, offering a warm, stubborn silence. After a long, tense moment of hesitation, a genuine laugh escapes her lips. The bright, unexpected sound hits me right in the chest. She still holds herself with a guarded stiffness, but the amusement in her eyes is real.

“Okay. You win. Give me two seconds.”

She turns around, grabbing a thick black marker from a cup on her desk. She scribbles a phone number on a blank piece of printer paper. She walks around the counter, tapes the paper to the inside of the front glass door, and flips the open sign to closed. She twists the deadbolt, locking the clinic down for the night.

“Follow me upstairs. We can eat in the apartment.”

She turns away from the doors, leading us down the narrow hallway. I catch Jake’s eye over her shoulder. He gives me a nod. We got our foot in the door. Now we just need to prove to her that she can trust us.

Jessie leads us up a steep, creaking flight of wooden stairs. We step into a second-floor apartment. The space feels like a vintage time capsule, featuring faded floral wallpaper and a small kitchen with retro checkered linoleum. It lacks personal touches, like photos or knick-knacks, but a safe, cozy warmth fills the room. A heavy, worn suitcase sits by the front door, the zipper pulled tight. A stark reminder that she plans to leave. I push the thought aside and focus on the present.

A huge black-and-white tuxedo cat sits on the back of the sofa. The feline tracks our every move with judgmental green eyes. I love animals, but this cat looks ready to commit a felony.

“This is Winston.” Jessie drops her keys on the counter. “He hates strangers. Ignore him, and you keep all your fingers.”

I offer the cat a respectful nod. “Understood.”

We gather around a round laminate table in the tiny kitchen. The four of us squeeze into the cheap wooden chairs. The close quarters send my Alpha instincts into a frenzy. I want to lean closer and crowd her space, but I force my body to stay relaxed. I lean back in my chair, giving her as much room as possible.